“Just when I thought that at least one desire was within reach, it is snatched away from me!” she cried.
“You wished to retain the King’s respect, you could not have done otherwise.”
“He is weakening. Because he thinks the Cardinal is dying he grows soft! ‘I would not lose him for twenty thousand pounds’. Am I not worth ten times that much to him? If he regains his health he will wheedle his way back into Henry’s confidence. What am I to do?”
Norfolk heartily agreed with her – Henry was weakening. Sentimentalising over past service and favours, if they failed now would there be another chance?
“Leave everything to me. Cease to worry, concentrate your efforts upon the King,” he told her firmly.
“I do not have much choice!” she replied bitterly.
When necessity arose, the Duke worked quickly. A certain Venetian Doctor who was a member of the Cardinal’s household was persuaded to testify that Wolsey had secretly written to the Pope, begging him to excommunicate the King if he did not dismiss the Lady Anne and return to his wife.
The warrant for the Cardinal’s arrest was issued and riding to York bearing that warrant was Henry Percy. Anne’s vengeance was complete but the unfortunate Cardinal cheated the executioner for he died at Leicester, en route to the Tower.
The court moved to Windsor and the whole country marvelled at the domestic arrangements of the King. Anne and Henry held court in one part of the castle while Katherine and her faithful followers held estate in another and never the twain did meet!
On the 1st June, 1531, Norfolk accompanied by Suffolk, visited the Queen.
They were announced by one of Katherine’s maids – a plain, mousey girl – a daughter of Sir John Seymour of Wolfe Hall.
“Your Grace, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk beg leave to speak with you.”
Katherine rose, “Thank you, Jane, please show them in.” “My Lords, it is good of you to visit me,” Katherine began.
“Madam, it is not a social visit,” Norfolk interrupted her. What had to be said was best said quickly, he thought.
“Your Grace, I fear that my husband is not the bearer of good news!” Elizabeth Howard observed, taking up her position beside the Queen.
Norfolk glared at her. “This, Madam, is the King’s business and does not concern you.”
“If it concerns the Queen’s Grace, then it is my concern also,” Elizabeth continued defiantly.
Katherine laid a hand upon her arm. “Do not fear, Lady Howard, the King wishes me no harm. I beg you go now, I will hear what My Lords have to say.”
With an annihilating look Elizabeth left followed by the rest of the Queen’s attendants.
“Madam, we have come to ask you to consider the King's position and the question of the succession,” Norfolk began.
“The King’s position is quite plain, as is mine. Until the Holy Father pronounces his judgement I am the King’s wife and the Princess Mary is his daughter and rightful heir to the Crown!” Katherine stated firmly.
Norfolk sighed impatiently. “Madam, the King requests that you consider this matter. You are a devout woman; there would be no disgrace in embracing the religious life and he bears you great affection."
“I am his wife! I will not enter a convent for the King's convenience!”
“Madam, you are obstructing the succession! The King needs a son. The country needs a strong hand to guide it, not the weak hand of a woman. Think on that matter!”
Katherine stiffened. “My Lord of Norfolk, you do not deceive me for I know full well that it is your desire to help your niece to my crown but as long as I breathe, I am the King’s wife and the Princess Mary is his legal child!”
“Madam, it is your Royal duty…” Suffolk cried.
She turned on him. “My Lord of Suffolk, do not tell me what is my Royal duty. I married a King but I was borne a Princess of Spain!”
Smarting beneath her accurate assessment of his ambition Norfolk turned away. “Come, ’tis of no further use. Good Day, Madam.”
Norfolk accepted the set-back but his wife was certainly not content to let his harassment of the Queen go so easily.
She sought him out after supper that night.
“Have you no shame? No sense of loyalty? No decency?” she raged at him. “Is it not enough that your harlot of a niece entices the King away? Must you rub salt into the wound by harassing and hounding her?”
He refused to be provoked. “I am but the King’s messenger. I have always been his servant.”
“You are his lackey, Thomas Howard! You are worse – the procurer of his mistresses!”
“My niece is not his mistress.”
Elizabeth laughed, “You are a fool if you believe that! You think that once she has gained her heart’s desire she will shower you with her gratitude? You are a fool if you harbour that hope! She is spiteful, ungrateful and avaricious!”
Elizabeth was too absorbed to notice that the door had opened and that the object of her wrath stood listening to her.
“It seems that I am not the only one who can be accused of possessing a spiteful tongue,” Anne said quietly.
Lady Howard turned to face her, taken aback for an instant.
“The matter must be of the greatest importance Aunt, that it draws you from the side of your mistress.”
“The matter concerns my husband and myself,” Elizabeth replied “but to satisfy your overweaning curiosity, I came to try to prevail upon what sense of decency may remain within him, to stop badgering the Queen and to stop playing the pimp!”
Anne’s dark eyes danced maliciously but she answered calmly “I do not need to vindicate myself to you, Madam.”
Norfolk eyed the two women with trepidation for they were like two wild cats with their hackles rising.
“If you have quite finished, I wish to speak to my uncle in private,” Anne remarked with a sweet smile which had the effect of a sharp slap in the face on Lady Howard.
Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed with anger and she clenched and unclenched her hands as though itching to scratch out those mocking black eyes.
“No, Madam, l have not finished! I was about to tell him that I consider him no husband of mine if he continued this course. The Queen’s Grace is a noble and virtuous lady – a Princesss born – and I will not stand by and see her humiliated by a mercer’s strumpet aided and abetted by a man who calls himself my husband!”
Anne’s eyes narrowed and she shook with rage, smarting visibly at Lady Howard’s taunts, but with a considerable effort she controlled herself.
“Lady Howard, you are dismissed! You will leave the court at once and return to Framlingham!”
Elizabeth held her ground. “It is not within your power to dismiss me. That power lies with the Queen!”
“You are wrong, Madam, that power lies with the King! Have your trunks packed for you can be certain that your dismissal will be ordered within the hour!”
Elizabeth Howard knew that she was beaten. She met the cold eyes of her husband squarely. “Remember that it was I who warned you when her venom is directed against you, Thomas Howard.”
In the middle of July, Henry and Anne went off on a long hunting expedition leaving the Queen at Windsor. They did not return but Henry sent the Queen a message informing her that he had no intention of returning to her and that she was to depart immediately to ‘The More’ in Hertfordshire. Even though Anne now completely dominated Henry's every move the divorce was no closer to becoming actuality.
Much to the Duke’s concern Anne now turned to Thomas Cromwell, that one time servant of Wolsey. Cromwell had profited by the death of his former master and had put into Henry's head the idea that the King himself should dispense with the Pope and become Head of the Church as well as the State. This idea greatly appealed to the King and Cromwell was now elevated to the post of trusty councillor.
The only obstacle to the divorce was Archbishop Wareham who flatly refused to re-open the case in England.
“My Lords, Pope Clement hath used our Sovereign Lord, King Henry – whom he did bestow with the title ‘Defender of the Faith’ – with ingratitude and injustice. Furthermore, the citation of the King of England to Rome is a direct affront to the Realm of England and a gross infringement of Royal Prerogative! Many learned men consider matrimonial cases to come under the jurisdiction of temporal, not ecclesiastical judges of whom the King is the head. I beg you, My Lords, to support our Sovereign Lord, the King, in his threatened position against foreign potentates!”
That August, Archbishop Wareham died and Anne and Cromwell nominated Thomas Cranmer to replace him. Cranmer had once been a Chaplain in the Boleyn household and was a weak, ubiquitous creature who could be relied upon to support Anne.
As an indication of his serious intentions towards her, Henry created Anne, Marquess of Pembroke. She was the first woman ever to be created a Peer in her own right but as Norfolk watched her walk triumphantly between the ranks of Dukes and Earls – the gold coronet encircling her brow, her black hair falling loose to her waist and the crimson robe of her new estate falling into a long train behind her – he wondered uneasily if there had not been some truth in his wife’s words. Anne certainly seemed less inclined to ask or take his advice, these days she turned more and more to Cromwell.
A bitter taste filled his mouth as he thought of the man. Had he destroyed one upstart only to find that there was another ready to take his place? Wolsey had not lacked greatness and a certain style, but Cromwell was common through and through and made no effort to gloss over his blunt manners. The Duke realised that there was now an even greater need for constant vigilance.
On the eve of St Paul’s day, 1533, Norfolk received a summons to attend his niece. The hour was late and the Duke had not been well that day and so it was with grudging reluctance that he made his way towards her apartments.
One of her maids, Margaret Wyatt, admitted him and then promptly left.
Anne was alone. A single cresset burned upon the wall, the candles had not been lit and his niece sat on a Persian rug before the open hearth. She reminded him of a child as she sat with her knees drawn up with her chin resting upon them. She appeared to be gazing intently into the flames and had not noticed him.
He coughed and she turned her head. “Uncle Norfolk, you had not retired I hope. The hour is late but the news I have for you will compensate for that. Please be seated.”
He glanced around looking for a chair for he had no intention of joining her upon the floor, although she seemed content with her rather undignified position. He pulled a fald-stool closer and sat down stiffly.
She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “The King requests you to attend him at four o’clock – before dawn – in the top-most storey of the west turret.”
Norfolk stared at her uncomprehendingly, “To attend where?”
“You heard correctly, Uncle. To-morrow is the day we have waited and worked six long years to see. To-morrow is my wedding day!”
He was thunderstruck and speechless. Finally he found his tongue “But the divorce has not been granted... is there something that you have not told me?”
She laughed, “There is indeed something that l have not told you. I am expecting a child – the King's son!”
He drew in his breath sharply. “So Henry has decided that he can do without the divorce,” he thought.
“He will have no bastard by me, my son will be born in wedlock.”
“But not conceived in wedlock,” he thought.
‘‘It will have to be kept a close secret for a while,” Anne continued.
“But what of the position? He cannot have two wives.”
Her face hardened, “He will not have two wives. Do not worry Uncle, that matter will be taken care of.”
“What is she conniving with Cromwell’s aid?” he wondered to himself.
Cromwell was rising far too fast for his liking. “Who else knows?”
“Anne Savage and two grooms of the chamber, Norris and Heneage, have been instructed to attend but they do not know for what reason.”
“Who is to perform the ceremony?”
“A Doctor Rowland Lee and all he has been told is that the King wishes to hear Mass.”
“And of course Master Cromwell!”
“Yes, Cromwell knows.” She peered up at him. “You do not trust Cromwell do you Uncle?”
“No and nor should you. Remember whose servant he once was!”
“Do you think I have forgotten? I will watch him but for the present he is useful.”
“If I am to be up at such an ungodly hour, Madam, pray excuse me.”
“Certainly. Do not look so sour Uncle, is this not what you have schemed and worked for for six years? Once my son is born my position is assured for ever for Henry will not put aside the mother of his son.”
“I suppose you are right, we must therefore rejoice,” he remarked drily. “Good Night.”
On the 26th March, 1533, the Bulls authorising the consecration of Thomas Cranmer as Archbishop of Canterbury arrived in England and on the 30th April he was installed. A week later the new Archbishop – ignoring the edict of the Pope – applied to re-open the examination into the King's marriage to Katherine.
On Easter Sunday, 12th April, the King’s new marriage was made known and Anne appeared at Henry’s side as Queen.
Norfolk was not present to watch her emerge triumphant for he had been sent with the Duke of Suffolk to Ampthill to inform Katherine of his niece’s marriage.
Secure in the knowledge of Anne’s position he laid aside all pretence of persuasion.
“If you have come to me with the hope of trying to persuade me further, My Lords, then I fear that your journey has been wasted!” Katherine informed them.
“No, Madam, we have come to inform you that you need not trouble any further about the King for he has taken another wife!” Norfolk informed her brutally.
Katherine’s eyes dilated and she swayed for a second, catching hold of the chair back to steady herself. “Your niece?” she asked in a strangled voice.
Norfolk ignored her question. “In future, Madam, you must abandon the title of Queen for you are now the Princess Dowager. You will of course be left in possession of your property…”
Katherine gathered the shreds of her dignity about her, “There is precious little left to me. Your niece has an avaricious nature!”
“Should you acknowledge your new estate you will find the King very generous.”
“I will never acknowledge any estate other than the one I have always held – that of Queen! He can deny me; you, My Lords, can deny me, but in the eyes of God and of honest men I am his wife and Mary is his legitimate child!”
Suffolk as usual lost his temper. “By the Holy Rood! What good can you hope to achieve, Madam, pursuing this futile course?”
Norfolk cut in coldly. “Once before, Madam, I told you that you were deliberately obstructing the succession. The Lady Mary will never be accepted as Queen and therefore you will be instrumental in plunging the realm into civil strife. Is that what you wish to do? To have the blood of my countrymen upon your hands?”
Katherine looked at him sadly, “My Lord of Norfolk, you are a cruel heartless man. I pray God that when the time comes for you to give an account of your deeds upon this earth that He will grant you forgiveness for your sins.”
Norfolk's expression did not alter although a tiny dart of shame pricked him.
“I am the King’s servant, Madam.”
“You are the servant of your own self-interest, My Lord.”
He turned abruptly to Suffolk, “We are wasting our time here. Let us leave the Princess Dowager to contemplate her position.” He bowed curtly and left her.
On the 23rd, May, Cranmer announced that the King’s marriage to Queen Katherine was void and on the 31st of that month Anne rode in her tr
iumphal procession through the city.
Sir Stephen Peacock, the Lord Mayor, led the procession followed by the Aldermen, the judges and the Ambassadors of minor foreign courts. There then followed the newly created Knights of the Bath in their violet gowns with hoods of miniver and the bishops and abbots. The Archbishop of York walked beside the Venetian Ambassador and Cranmer was accompanied by the French Ambassador. Behind them walked two squires bearing the Ducal coronets of Normandy and Aquitaine and then Lord William Howard – the Duke’s young step-brother. Behind him came the Duke of Norfolk, newly created Earl Marshall of England and beside him Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, who was Lord High Constable of England – for the day.
Norfolk stared grimly ahead of him wondering what kind of reception his niece would receive from the citizens. He did not greatly care whether she was popular or not, the most important thing was that she was Queen although her growing arrogance displeased him.
If the citizens did not like her they certainly had to admire her that day as she sat in an open litter covered with cloth of gold shot with white which was drawn by two palfreys, caprisoned even their heads in white damask. Her surcoat was of cloth of silver tissue with a mantle of the same lined with ermine and her beautiful, black hair fell loose about her shoulders. Upon her head was a circlet of rubies while over her head four knights bore a canopy of cloth of gold.
The seven ladies of her train were dazzling in crimson velvet and cloth of gold. Behind her ladies, in a chariot, sat her step-mother, Agnes, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk – overdressed and loaded with jewels. Agnes had grown considerably stout and when the Duke had first set eyes upon her he had been sickened by her show of bad taste, although Agnes was puffed up with pride for Anne had bestowed upon her the honour of carrying her train at the forthcoming coronation.
The reception Anne received was cold. The usual pageants were performed and everywhere was to be seen Anne’s device of a white falcon perched upon a golden branch from which blossomed red and white roses. Norfolk privately thought that she could have chosen a less arrogant motto for ‘Me and Mine’ would not endear her to the silent, hostile crowds.
The White Lion of Norfolk Page 6